


Thighs to Die For

by The_Lady_Crane



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Attraction, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Embarrassment, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Flirting, Frottage, Growing Up Together, Hand Jobs, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Romance, Semi-established relationship, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Yaoi, thigh fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: Ike's sexual awakening began with a glimpse of smooth, pale thighs peeking out from behind a dark robe.(Title is inspired by "Hips to Die For", which is an absolutely hilarious Snape/Voldemort fic that I read a while ago.)
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 146





	Thighs to Die For

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't quite get past the first two scenes for a long time. Then, suddenly, the entire thing came pouring out of me, and it's now finished! I'm posting it now, but I will go back and fix any grammar or spelling mistakes. This takes place mostly between PoR and RD. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Also, check out some of Soren's 0 Cipher card art. Boy has some nice thighs. I'm just sayin'.

The first time Ike noticed, they were carefree teenagers living in the old fort with the rest of the Greil Mercenaries. In a few short months, their lives would change forever. They would rescue a princess, face an army, and lose the man who had held their ragtag company together. But for now, Ike’s only worry was someday proving himself a capable fighter. The only things that occupied his thoughts were training and eating.

Then, one day, he went to the river with Soren. This wasn’t unusual by itself. It was nice weather and splashing around in the cool water was a favored pastime. They had done this many a time before in the past few years since Soren had joined their group. They were talking – rather, Ike talked, and Soren listened with contentment, offering his quiet opinion now and then. It was rare for Ike to be so verbal, as usually Soren was the one puzzling over strategies or pondering something he’d read recently. Neither was very good with words, but they held their own type of conversation. When one spoke, the other listened, knowing that he wouldn’t be obligated to pitch in. Their friendship was easy that way, comfortable.

“I was so close,” Ike was saying as he stripped off his shirt, flexing his muscles in the warm sunlight. “If he’d just moved to the left and not the right, my sword would have…”

Something caught his eye, and he trailed off, words abandoning him. Soren stood beside him, busy with his own clothing. The mage rarely joined Ike in an outright swim, preferring instead to wade in the water. To this end, he was removing his shoes and his trousers, pinning up his robes so the fabric was bunched at his back. The long slits in the front now revealed pale, smooth flesh instead of the fabric of his leggings, and somehow the sight was arresting Ike’s attention. He stared, his mouth just slightly open, as Soren rolled up his long hair and fixed it in a messy bun at his neck.

“Yes?” Soren glanced at him, and Ike felt his face go hot.

“I, uh…” His throat was dry. He swallowed and forced his gaze back to the water flowing past them.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” he said all too quickly. Suddenly, he was hesitant to remove his trousers. There was an uncomfortable feeling growing between his legs. It was familiar from early mornings when he woke up with a tent in his blankets, but he’d never experienced it while fully awake. There was always too much to do, and he hadn’t asked about it beyond that first time, when his father told him it was just part of growing up. He accepted it and moved on with his life. There were more important things to think about.

But now, he was unable to get his mind onto any of those other things. Long pale slits in black fabric were demanding his attention. Of course, Soren noticed. Nothing escaped him. But he seemed to misinterpret Ike’s expression. “You’re improving rapidly. At this point, I think the commander is planning on inducting you soon. His condition that you get a hit on him first is just a formality.”

Ike had only heard about half of what Soren was saying, but the reassuring smile made him suddenly weak in the knees. “Yeah,” he said, nodding his head and feeling like an idiot. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.” Soren’s smiles were rare, and often so subtle that one had to look closely to detect them. There was something about that rare display of openness, and the teasing strip of skin at his thighs, that had Ike sitting on a nearby rock and holding his legs together to keep Soren from seeing his arousal.

That day at the river had been the first time Ike had noticed Soren’s thighs; and that day marked the beginning of the end of Ike’s obliviousness to sex.

>>><<<

Oddly enough, he didn’t realize that he was attracted to the mage until after the war with Daein. His mind took some time to catch up with his body, particularly once the war began and the lustful thoughts abandoned him. But there were times – usually inappropriate times, such as during a battle – when he would catch sight of Soren and his body would respond as it had before.

Love, romance, and lust were all foreign concepts to Ike. He was oblivious to the attention he received from shop girls and noblewomen. He was so focused on his goals that there was simply no room for anything else. He knew what it was to love, because he loved his family – the mercenaries – dearly. He had always known that he loved Soren, and had finally acknowledged it under the arches of the royal gardens in Melior. Now he knew the difference between familial love and romantic love. But the realization that romantic love could be physical as well as emotional only came to him when he walked out of the old fort one day and collided with a very flustered-looking Soren.

“Sorry,” Ike said before he could even recognize who had run into him. When he realized that it was Soren, he dropped to one knee to help the mage stand up.

“It’s nothing, I was careless,” Soren mumbled. He stood unassisted, and Ike was left kneeling at eye-level with—

“Hnng.” A strangled, pathetic sound left Ike’s throat as he realized what he was staring at. He was directly in front of Soren’s bare thighs. He fell back onto his rump just as Soren brushed past him. The sage disappeared into the fort, leaving the lingering scent of soap and the mental image of the smaller young man dressed only in a short towel.

“Are you OK, Ike?” Mist called from across the yard, where she was hanging fresh laundry out to dry. Ike stood on shaking knees and went to join her.

“Was that… Was Soren…” He could hardly get the words out.

Mist giggled and threw one of Mia’s shirts over the line. “Oh, there was a mix-up earlier. Rolf took his clothes from the bath, but Soren didn’t have any fresh ones to change into. He’s stuck wearing a towel until I get the next load out of the tub.”

“Huh.” It was quite a predicament. Soren must be extremely embarrassed, Ike thought. He would have to help, somehow. Maybe by keeping the strategist inside Ike’s room, just until the laundry was done. Ike could imagine how Soren would look in one of his larger shirts, those smooth thighs peeking out from under the worn fabric, a shoulder exposed over the wide collar…

“Um, Ike?” Mist’s grin was barely concealed behind a pair of socks. “You’re pitching a tent.”

“Huh?”

“Ike, really!” She giggled again, and this time pointed downward. He followed her line of sight to the ground, to his boots, up his legs, to his…

With a strangled shout, he grabbed a damp shirt off the line and shoved it over his crotch. Mist doubled over in laughter as he fled, his face burning.

>>><<<

Somehow, Ike couldn’t get that picture out of his head. He needed to see Soren wearing an oversized shirt. The way his thighs had looked, barely covered by the towel, so smooth and soft-looking… Ike shuddered just thinking about it. He had to see it again. He needed to.

Unfortunately, being Ike, he just couldn’t get past his own honest nature.

“Hey, Soren, how’s it going?” he asked one fine summer day as he met Soren crossing the yard. The sage’s arms were loaded with books and scrolls of paper. He seemed as busy as ever.

“Just reorganizing some things,” Soren said, slowing only a little as he drew level with Ike. “Do you have anything pressing to do at the moment?”

“Not really.”

“Good.” Ike wasn’t too surprised when Soren shifted his load, and he was ready to catch the books as Soren held them out to him. “Carry these for me. We can get them all in one trip.” Ike had to chuckle to himself, softly. Soren was always trying to find ways to be useful to Ike, always looking after his wellbeing; but when he was in Work Mode, not even Ike was safe from being bossed around. Serving as tactician to an entire army had made Soren quite comfortable with giving orders.

They doubled back to the storehouse, where Soren gathered more books and a few inkwells. Then they made their way back across the yard. “These were sent by Prince Reyson,” Soren explained as they walked. “Boyd brought them out here, instead of to the library. Certainly, it was the _logical_ thing to do.” He rolled his eyes, and Ike smiled.

“Don’t be too hard on him. He just got over that cold, you know.”

“Were illness an excuse for incompetence, Rhys wouldn’t be half the cleric that he is,” Soren snorted.

“Did you just compliment someone?”

The sage’s cheeks reddened just slightly – a sight that always made Ike’s heart pound, for some reason. Ignoring the question, he turned so he could push the side door open with his shoulder. “Hey, guys!” Mia called from her seat by the fireplace. She, Gatrie, and Boyd were sitting around apparently sharpening their weapons. “Need a hand?”

“No, we’re fine, thanks,” Ike answered.

They turned down the hallway and soon found the library, which was really just a small room that had once served as extra storage. Greil had been the one to turn it into a room for storing books, and Soren had continued his work ever since the end of the Mad King’s War. It was now furnished with simple but well-built shelves; and it was stocked with books and tomes brought from Melior or sent to them by various allies. Soren bade Ike to put his load down on the table in the middle of the room, and then set to work organizing the new additions to their library.

Ike didn’t bother to ask if he could help. Soren had a certain way of organizing things, and woe be upon anyone who tried to interfere with that. The former general simply leaned against the table, his arms crossed and his mind wandering.

“Hey, Soren,” he said after a moment.

“Hmm?” Soren didn’t look up from where he was currently filing books onto an empty shelf.

“Do you remember the big party in Melior, after they rebuilt the castle?”

The sage’s hand faltered for a moment. “… Yes. It was quite an event.”

“Remember the garden?”

A soft smile, barely visible behind a curtain of dark hair. “Yes, I do.” Ike couldn’t help smiling, as well. There had been a lot of words said then, a lot of feelings revealed; and a kiss that had left him speechless, breathless, almost shaking in his boots.

“We haven’t had much time since then to, uh, talk about that.”

Finally, Soren turned to look at him. Ike could almost see the thoughts whirling around in his head. “… No. I suppose we haven’t.”

Suddenly, Ike wasn’t feeling so casual about bringing this up. It always seemed a simple matter, until he stopped to analyze it. “You and me… We’re a ‘thing’ now, aren’t we?”

“I suppose we are. Do you…?”

“I said what I said because I meant it.” Ike’s voice was firm as he sought to quash Soren’s doubts before they could even be spoken. “I’m not taking any of it back. But, uh…” He scratched the back of his head, looking down at the floor. “People who are… like that. You know, a couple. They sometimes ask things of each other, don’t they?”

“I would do anything you asked of me, Ike.” Soren’s eyes glittered in the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

“No, it’s… I do have a request, but I don’t want you to do it if you’re uncomfortable with it.” Ike knelt beside Soren, close enough to raise his hand to his shoulder. Soren stiffened just briefly, and then relaxed, almost leaning into Ike’s hand. “It’s just something stupid I’ve been thinking about. That’s all.”

“What is it?”

“Would you wear one of my shirts?”

Whatever Soren had been expecting, it obviously wasn’t that. His eyebrows rose just a fraction of an inch. “You want me to wear one of your shirts?”

Ike could feel the blood rushing to his face. It had seemed such a simple request before. Saying it aloud had made him aware of how strange it was, though. “Yeah. Just one of my shirts. And, uh… Nothing else.”

Soren’s eyes went wide, and he tensed again. Ike cursed himself mentally. He’d blown it. “You mean you want to see me…”

“You don’t have to!” Ike pulled back then, standing up and nearly banging his head on the bookshelf. “It was just something I’d been thinking about, not really worth talking about, anyway it’s probably really stupid. Oh, uh, I gotta… go… uh…” He was backing out of the room already. “I’ll see you, uh, at… Well, bye!” This was said when he was already well out of sight, echoing down the corridor. Soren stared after him, lost for words.

>>><<<

Ike could just see it now: his epitaph, engraved upon a stone monument, placed over him once his life had ended. It would read, “Here lies Ike, son of Greil, General of the Crimean Army, Commander of the Greil Mercenaries. He was a hero to all, except to Soren, who realized what an idiot he was and ran away with some traveling book salesman.” Not that Ike seriously doubted Soren’s fidelity, but he wouldn’t blame the sage for dropping him after something like this. He had saved a country, perhaps an entire continent, and yet something as commonplace as a relationship had defeated him.

He spent the rest of the day pacing the floor in his room, and then spent the evening lying on his bed with his arm flung over his face. He couldn’t even muster up an appetite. When Mist called him for dinner, he told her that he was feeling ill and that he refused to be disturbed. He just wanted to be left alone with his failure. More than anything else, he wanted to avoid Soren for a while. He had probably made the sage extremely uncomfortable, or even angry, and it would be best to give him plenty of space.

A knock on the door announced Mist’s return. “I’m not hungry,” Ike called. A pinprick of irritation flared within him when the door creaked open, anyway. “Mist, just go away,” he said, sitting up.

His jaw nearly dropped when he saw Soren closing the door behind himself.

“It’s a good thing that Mist isn’t here. She wouldn’t appreciate that tone of yours,” the sage said quietly. He was looking away, and it made Ike even more nervous. He couldn’t tell what Soren was feeling.

“Soren, I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, moving to stand but held back when Soren put up a hand.

“I can’t really understand you,” Soren said, and Ike braced himself for a tongue-lashing. “You want to see me in a state of near-undress… I didn’t know why, at first. But there’s only one logical answer. You’re attracted to me, for some reason.”

Ike swallowed a lump in his throat. “I am. I told you that before. But that doesn’t mean that you have to…”

Again, Soren held up his hand, still gazing resolutely at the floor. “I want to make you happy. And this is something that c- couples do.” He flinched at the word, seeming not to be able to wrap his tongue around it. “And I… I am… flattered. That you want to see me. Like that.”

“It’s your choice, I really don’t…”

“Shut up, Ike.” Soren looked up at him then, his expression unreadable. And then he was lifting his hands to draw open his black robe, and Ike’s eyes got wider and wider as more was revealed. Underneath, Soren was wearing nothing – nothing but one of Ike’s cream-colored undershirts, nothing to hide his legs, nothing to hold up the collar as it sagged over one bare shoulder. The lump in Ike’s throat solidified as his mouth went dry.

Moving carefully, Soren draped his robe across the back of the desk chair. Then he stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, just a few feet away from the bed, his hands behind his back and his eyes once more directed towards the tattered rug. “I took it from the clothesline,” he mumbled. “I- I didn’t think that Mist would mind too much having one less shirt to fold.”

A strangled little noise escaped Ike’s throat. He coughed, and said, “C- Won’t you, uh- You can come he- here, if you want.” He scooted over a bit to make room on the bed. In the faint lamplight, Soren’s face grew rosier.

“Very well.” He stepped closer and hesitated just a moment before sitting across from Ike. When he shifted, the shirt rode up his thighs, revealing more to Ike’s hungry gaze. Captivated, Ike leaned forward and gently took Soren’s hand in his. He broke his gaze away from Soren’s body so he could look into his eyes, finding Soren looking back at him shyly.

“Here.” Ike pulled back and grabbed at his own shirt, seizing on an idea that had suddenly occurred to him. Soren watched in astonishment as Ike pulled his tunic open and shrugged it off. He tossed it onto the floor, and then lifted his undershirt over his head, discarding it as he sought Soren’s gaze once more. “You can, uh, look at me, too.”

It was a sight fit to steal Soren’s breath away. Ike had grown much in the short time since they had returned to the fort, losing some of the softness in his face and gaining more muscle. His arms and torso were crossed with faint scars, the remnants of what couldn’t be healed by magic. A thin trail of dark hair peeked out from above the waistband of his pants, and the sage couldn’t help following it with his eyes, all the way down to the noticeable bulge growing between the commander’s legs.

Feeling embarrassed and ridiculous and far too excited by this simple reveal of skin, Soren let out a breathy laugh. “This is ridiculous. We’ve seen each other naked.”

“Yeah. It’s different, somehow,” Ike said with a smirk. “After Melior…”

“I’ve been wondering if we would do something like this.”

“Me, too. Uh, actually…” Ike glanced away, embarrassed again. “I noticed you before. At the river, when we were kids.”

“Really?” Soren seemed surprised.

“Yeah. Your legs. That time you pinned up your clothes, and waded into the water…”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

“I do. You could say I was, uh, obsessed with that for a while.”

“Hm. Pervert.”

Ike looked up, ashamed and alarmed, only to find Soren smiling at him. His apprehension melted away, and he smiled, too. “Do you want to…?” He held out his arms. Without hesitation, Soren fell into him. Their bodies fit together so well, and the feeling of Soren’s clothed chest against his naked torso made Ike shiver in the best way. He relaxed onto his side, Soren cuddled up against him, both of them breathing each other’s scent.

They did this often, whenever Soren could sneak out of the barracks to join Ike in the commander’s room. Usually, though, they never did more than fall asleep next to each other. Tonight’s escapade was something new, and it was exciting both of them. When Soren looked up into Ike’s eyes, Ike gave into the sudden urge to kiss him. Their lips met, and it was all over from there. Ike knew then that he was the happiest man in the world at that moment. Soren was cool to the touch, but his mouth was all heat, consuming Ike with a desperate hunger. Ike pushed further and further, succeeding in rolling them over so he was leaning over Soren. The shirt rode further up, and Ike touched, his hand trembling slightly as his fingers made contact with previously unknown territory.

Soren’s lips parted, perhaps for a sigh, and Ike’s tongue slipped in, finding Soren’s and engaging him in a teasing dance. “Mnn… Ike…” His name was said so fervently, so longingly, that Ike couldn’t hold back any longer. He settled between Soren’s thighs, thrusting carefully, experimentally, until Soren’s hips bucked upward to meet his. They panted against each other, groaning and shuddering as pleasure raced back and forth between them.

Flustered, Ike realized that he was still wearing pants. He paused for a moment so he could reach down, and Soren’s nimble fingers joined his to free his straining cock. Ike let out a hiss between clenched teeth when Soren boldly took him in hand, red eyes watching him carefully for any sign that he should stop. Ike thrust into Soren’s hand a few times, and then rolled them over so they were lying side by side once more. He reached for the hem of Soren’s shirt and lifted it, exposing an expanse of skin that begged to be touched.

Since the end of the war, particularly since they had confessed their feelings to one another, Soren had put on some weight. His hips were gently curved, his belly still flat but no longer so frightfully thin. Ike’s fingers trailed down his navel, towards the hardness concealed by his under-

Ike stopped, his eyes popping wide open when he realized that Soren’s underclothes were little more than a cloth strip wound about his hips. Soren turned his face away. “I thought you might… like it…” he muttered.

The commander couldn’t quite find his voice at the moment, so he settled for leaning in to steal another kiss. He fingered the flap of cloth that barely concealed Soren’s erection, and found that a gentle tug unraveled the whole thing. As if to distract Ike, Soren gave his member a squeeze. Ike’s groan turned into a growl as he ground into Soren’s grip, but he still had the presence of mind to return the favor. The little sage yelped against Ike’s lips, then bit him (none too gently, Ike noted with a smirk). Ike bit back, and Soren pulled away, only to clamp onto Ike’s neck and suck hard.

“Hnng!” Ike shifted one arm under Soren’s body, pulling him close as his other hand stroked the persistent hardness between his legs. Soren released him with a gasp and redoubled his efforts on Ike. “Goddess, Soren…!” He thrust into soft hands, which were both wrapped around his cock to support its girth. A thumb flicked at the head, sending shudders up and down Ike’s spine. “H- hold on…! I’m gonna…!”

“That’s the point,” Soren mumbled against his cheek.

“N- no, you don’t…!” Using every ounce of willpower to push Soren away, Ike rolled him over and pressed himself against Soren’s back. His breath heated the back of Soren’s neck, ghosted across his ear as he said, “Who says you get to have the upper hand?”

Soren shivered, Ike’s low voice turning his body to jelly. “I am a strategist,” he said breathlessly. “It’s m- my job to gain the advantage.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m a general, you know.” Ike maneuvered himself so he was pushing in between Soren’s thighs, his cock coming to rest between them. Soren squeezed his legs together, teasing him, bucking his hips just slightly. Losing his sanity bit by bit, Ike still managed to reach around, and grab hold of Soren’s dick. “It’s _my_ job to conquer.”

Whatever comeback Soren had ready was lost in a low moan as Ike began stroking him once more. His other hand reached beneath Soren and pinched at a perked nipple. Whether unconsciously or not, Soren began to rock back and forth along Ike’s length, sending electric sparks through the commander’s belly. “Ike…!”

“It’s OK?” Ike panted against Soren’s ear.

“Ye- yes!”

“Goddess…!”

Young and inexperienced as they were, they didn’t last long. Ike came first, pulsing between Soren’s thighs, splattering them with cum and uttering a desperate and feral cry. As Soren shifted to finger Ike’s cockhead and catch some of his seed, Ike tightened his grip and brought Soren over the edge, too. Soren’s mouth hung open in a silent scream, the squeaking of his voice crackling in and out as he shuddered in Ike’s hold. Soon the sheets were streaked with white, and Ike and Soren lay exhausted against each other, faces red and eyes half-lidded.

Ike wasn’t aware that he was absent-mindedly stroking Soren’s leg until Soren said, “You really do have an odd fascination with that, don’t you?”

His hand stilled, but Soren reached down to place his own hand over Ike’s, encouraging him to continue. “Sorry. Is that strange?”

“Yes. But I… I don’t mind.”

Ike closed his eyes, nuzzling into Soren’s inky tresses. “I like your hair, too.”

“I’m not letting you jerk it into my hair.”

The commander’s first thought was to protest that he would never dream of it, but the thought was a bit appealing to him. Besides, he was feeling playful. “Not even once?”

“Not if you paid me.”

“Not even if I begged?”

A smile slid across Soren’s face. “Hm… We’ll see.”

>>><<<

The phrase, “What goes around comes around,” was one that Ike had begun to think of lately. Before, he had felt somewhat dirty for thinking the thoughts that had led to his and Soren’s first sexual encounter. Yes, the end result had been well worth it, but he really did have a problem. Every time he saw Soren’s legs, he all but lost the capacity for sentient thought.

When he thought about it, it had really been a matter of time before Soren learned to exploit that weakness.

“Ike, you’re on laundry duty,” Soren said one day as they convened in the library.

“Are you kidding? That’s Mist’s job!”

Soren raised an eyebrow, and Ike was suitably cowed. Boyd’s cold had spread to half the company, leaving few who could tend to the day-to-day chores. “I would have Gatrie do it again, but I’ve no doubt that he would stage a one-man rebellion.”

As helpful as Ike typically was, as willing as he was to work, laundry was his least favorite chore of all. He would rather have stable duty for a month than spend one day doing laundry. “What chores are you doing this week? I’ll trade with you.”

“This is not up for debate, Ike.”

“I’m the commander, you know. I could order you to do it yourself,” Ike huffed.

Instead of a sardonic quip, Soren only sighed. He laid aside his papers and stood up from the table. “Ike…” The commander was immediately put on guard. He knew that tone, and he knew that slight smile. Soren hoisted himself onto the table, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands, and Ike’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull when he realized that Soren wasn’t wearing anything beneath his robes. The long slit in the side revealed nothing but bare leg. “I understand that you despise doing laundry. And I’m… sympathetic to your plight.” Soren’s voice was a sensual purr. Ike couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to. “But do consider the matter of fairness. You’re always going on about it… Wouldn’t you feel _awful_ if someone else had to shoulder an unfair burden, simply because you didn’t want to do it?”

Ike’s mouth moved wordlessly for a moment. Soren’s smirk widened just a bit. “I- I… Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Then get to it.” Soren slid off of the table, and Ike stood there dumbfounded, slowly emerging from whatever spell he’d come under.

“Why… Why are you, uh…?”

“Oh, that?” Soren pulled his robe again, giving Ike another eyeful. “It behooves a strategist to prepare for any kind of situation.”

“You did this just so you could get me to do laundry?!”

“It works, doesn’t it?” Soren sat down again, shifting through papers. Ike stared at him in disbelief, until Soren glanced up, raised an eyebrow, and silently shooed him with a motion of his hand.

Ike took his chore schedule and stuffed it into his pocket. Then, muttering about strategists and unfairness and stupid intrusive thoughts, he stomped out into the corridor, ignoring Soren’s soft chuckling.


End file.
